You nailed it, Chuck Brodsky

Well, he came to our town
For maybe an hour.
The streets, they got swept
And they planted some flowers.
Babies were kissed,
To the people he waved,
And he stopped
At a Civil War general’s grave.
And he struck just the right pose
And he hit just the right chord.
He spoke of the family
And then of the Lord.
He addressed the concerns
Of the common man.
He spoke of the glory
Of this mighty land.
And he was just the right color,
And his smile was fixed,
And his wardrobe was assembled
From a bag full of tricks.
And he had gobs of make up
That were caked on his face,
Starch in his collar,
Every hair was in place.
And his wife stood beside him
And his daughter did too,
Behind them the flag
With the red, white and blue.
Balloons from the rafters
They fell to the floor.
Oh Happy Day’s were
Gonna be here once more.
He said all the right words,
He quoted Bob Dylan songs.
He sounded hip, even though
He quoted them wrong.
And his closets were cleaned
And his history revised,
So his record would be spotless
In most people’s eyes.
And he could sell you a war,
He could revoke your rights,
And still come off as your friend
In the camera lights.
And he’ll run negative ads
If he has to to win,
He’ll go back on his word
And he will shed his own skin.
Well, I was not touched
By this guy in the least.
He was no savior,
I think he was the Beast.
Well, I have to admit
They staged a good show
It was all reminiscent
Of four years ago,
When he came to our town
For maybe an hour.
The streets, they got swept
And they planted some flowers.
Babies were kissed,
To the people he waved,
And he stopped
At a Civil War general’s grave
After an hour
They whisked him away.
Things went back to normal,
But it took two or three days.
The homeless returned
To living outside,
And the flowers
That they planted,
They all wilted and died.
Yes, he came to our town
For maybe an hour
The streets, they got swept
And they planted some flowers.

mindreaders

I don't know when Cliff and I first realized we could read one another's minds.  When it began, it only happened occasionally.  We figured it was some sort of coincidence if one of us would starting talking about something and it would turn out to be the same thing the other was thinking.  

These days it's a common occurrence that we've learned to accept as normal.  

It often has to do with food:  I get up two or three hours before Cliff in the morning.  Most often we have cereal and fruit for breakfast, not because it's our preference, but it seems the easiest way to control our calorie intake.  And yes, because the cleanup is easy.  Once in awhile, though, while Cliff is still in bed, I'll take a notion to treat him with bacon and eggs or, more rarely, biscuits and gravy.  Sometimes I'll make muffins; we'll each eat two and then I freeze the rest for another day.

At least three-fourths of the time, when I tell Cliff what we're having for breakfast, he'll say, "You ain't gonna believe this..." and tell me that was exactly what he was wishing for as he was lying in bed.  

Sometimes I'll be craving something that can only be gotten if we eat out.  Many, many times he "feels the vibes" and asks if I'm wanting to go someplace to eat.  

After breakfast this morning Cliff went to the shop and stayed there, messing with his latest tractor project.  Now, I should first tell you that our vacation has ruined me:  I have had very little desire to cook anything lately.  I guess I got used to having everything done for me, as well as having new, interesting things to do all the time.  However, I have plugged along, and we've had regular meals.  

Soon after my husband left the house, I began to wonder what Bates City Cafe was going to be serving for lunch.  I tried to shoo the thought away, but it just didn't work.  Finally I went to the cafe's Facebook page and, in a comment to something the proprietor had said earlier, asked, "What's for lunch?"

Usually they answer Facebook inquiries within the hour, but not this time.  We eat at noon every day, because that way when Cliff is outside, he knows when to come in for dinner (that's lunch, for you city folks).  Having received no answer from the cafe by 10:30, I decided I may as well get on the ball and fix something easy.  I opened a couple cans of green beans, cut up a smallish onion into them, added 1/2 of the kielbasa in a package, sliced into bite-size pieces, and slipped in a teaspoon of bacon grease for good measure.  Because there's nothing easier than a potato baked in the microwave, I chose that as a side.  Seemed like a pretty lame dinner.  However, I had been moving a quart of frozen peaches aside every time I went digging around in the freezer lately, and I decided to put them to good use in a peach cobbler.  Now THAT made it appear (and smell) as though I had been slaving away all morning, and a cobbler is pretty simple to make.  

That was dinner, and a mighty tasty one it was.  When Cliff came in, he saw the meal I had prepared and said, "Huh, that's funny.  I had the strangest feeling you were going to be coming out to the shop telling me you wanted to go someplace to eat.  I guess I was wrong."

I smiled and told him he was right on target, that I had been thinking about Bates City Cafe.  However, since they never answered my query, I just went ahead and cooked.

"That's exactly the place I was thinking about!" he said.  

"Oh well, it's their loss," I replied.

Besides, on Friday nights they have a fried catfish special.